Just Another Day
by Caterpi
Summary: [HIATUS/FROZEN] Tales from the daily life at the Ministry of Magic and the impact events of the Second Wizarding War will have on Its flying memos, self-important department heads, desperately overwhelmed workers and cushy half-forgotten offices. As the saying goes: Administration makes the (wizarding) world go round.
1. 1a-Bertie

_First (and last) obligatory Author's Note:_

(1) The entity referenced hereafter as _(The Author)_ , does not claim ownership of any forthcoming world, character or event belonging or affiliated to the Harry Potter Franchise. The same is to be assumed in any of the potentially following chapters. All hail JKR.

(2) This story is currently a work in progress that _(The Author)_ will attempt to update as frequently as possible (daily?) with short chapters (or partitions of) comprised of no less than _500_ words. To be potentially followed upon completion by a revisited, revised and reworked final version.

(2.5) In this spirit, the submission of any commentary, critic, idea or opinion is highly endorsed and welcomed by _(The Author)_. Any grammatical, orthographic or syntactical error is to be reported to the _Editing office_ of the _Writing Maintenance Department_ at once. To these ends, a Contact Apparatus, referenced hereafter as _(Review Box)_ has been placed at the disposition of any reader.

(3) _(The Reader)_ is welcome to please enjoy _(The Fiction)_.

\- Caterpi -

* * *

 _ **Thursday of June the 20th, 1991, Diagon Alley:**_

The face of Cuthbert Cram, better known as Bertie, sported a small, satisfied smile. Today would mark the end of his probationary period as a Junior Investigator at the _Improper Use of Magic Office_. In truth, working for the Ministry of Magic had never been his childhood dream, but Vaults are not filled by whimsical adventures or pretend dragon-slaying.

After dropping by a stationery store at the beginning of his midday break, he was making his way to the Leaky Cauldron, where he would be joining his colleague -and didn't that sound all adult and responsible- for lunch. He had decided to take the short walk to the pub in order to enjoy the wonderful summer weather. The director of the _Magical Maintenance Department_ had not been in a good mood for what seemed like ages, and it showed in the constant drizzle displayed by the windows at the Ministry.

Upon arriving, he quickly spotted the salt-and-pepper hair and portly build of his mentor and joined his table, ordering a slice of fisherman's pie. After some time was spent on the appreciation of Tom's cooking, Bertie mentioned something that had been troubling him:

-"Say Alwyn, would you mind answering another question?"

-"Aye, lad, I s'pose it's my duty as your supervising officer," he answered gruffly.

-"See, I've been trying to memorize the entire list of departments and offices..."

-"Blimey! why would you even attempt such a thing!"

-"Well..." Bertie said, not amused "I was mostly bored during my time in the Stacks and I guessed I should at least try do something constructive."

-"Ah, to be young and starry-eyed again."

-"Yes, well... could you explain to me why the _Department of Intoxicating Substances_ and the _Department of Magical Equipment Control_ are dependant of the _Department of Security_... wouldn't it make more sense if they were a part of _Magical Trading Standards_ or something?"

-"Listen, there are two answers to your question."

-"Uhuh?" Bertie said, reseating himself comfortably on the cosy chair.

-"The first one," he said, taking a sip of the strong ale he had chosen to lubricate his lunch, "is full of historical and political excuses that would be sure to bring a headache to any sane wizard."

Bertie sighed.

-"The second one, is a lesson best learned early by any newcomers to the Ministry: Never try to explain why anything works like it does. This way lies only madness." Alwyn warned in an ominous voice.

-"Sooo... I guess I'll just try to do my work properly and not ask too many questions."

-"There is a good lad!" the experienced investigator praised, raising his pint in appreciation.

 _Dragon riding... Veela enclaves... ancient treasures..._ Bertie thought morosely, _at least, with a bit of luck, I might get my first real assignment soon._

Back at the office, the climate was not conducive to any form of excitement. As soon as he stepped through the doors of the department, he was called to the office of Mrs Hopkrik, the secretary for the _Detection and Investigation_ branch of operations. The short and fussy older woman was renowned for her appreciation of sound and proper paper work. She did not disappoint.

-"Ah, mister Cram, good news..."

 _I doubt it_ , Bertie thought

-"... I have an interesting assignment for you that should serve to reinforce the formation you have been given."

-"That's nice," Bertie said, somewhat reluctantly.

-"The _Office of Misinformation_ has requested a listing of all the major magical incidents that occurred in the last ten years with their causes and context. It should be quite easy to collate all the sources from the Stacks, but they will be expecting your report by next week for an important meeting of the _Muggle-Worthy Excuse Committee_. I'm afraid you might have to give up your Sunday."

-"Oh."

-"Would that be a problem?" she asked, her eyes narrowing slightly behind her glasses.

-"Not at all m'am, needs must," Bertie said as rain poured slowly outside the window and over his heart.

 _Joy_ , he thought.


	2. 1b-Bertie

_**Sunday of June the 23rd, 1991, Ministry of Magic:**_

-"Oy, lad! How are you doin'?"

-"Alwyn?" said Bertie, the staccato thumping of his head against the desk halting for a moment, "what in Merlin's name are you doing here? Did you end up on watch?"

-"Nah", He said waiving to his casual attire, "I'm just passing by to drop a file. How's the _parchmentwork_ treating you?"

Bertie made a face.

-"That bad, ey?" Alwyn said with a chuckle, "I remember the early days... It will get better... probably."

-"Should 've applied to something quiet like the _Official Gobstones Club_ or the _Animagus Registry_."

-"Ah! A fat load of good it would have done you, these little hidey-holes are almost hereditary at this point. Passed down from lazy father to lazy son... It's impossible to get in there."

-"Yeah, I know... one can always dream."

Suddenly, the silent stillness of the empty office space was broken by a short magical alarm.

At the back of the cluttered room, a large map of Great Britain was displayed, headed by the title: _"Minor Magical Manifestations"_. A small red dot had appeared somewhere over what he estimated to be the county of Surrey.

-"Well now, what do we have here?" said Alwyn, walking closer to the map.

Bertie jumped to his feet and joined him, feeling a twinge of excitement. His mentor was not officially on duty. For the first time, he was the only responsible investigator in the room. Of course, it was only a minor incident. The major ones were directly handled by the _Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes_ and the common ones were the responsibility of the more experienced members of the department. They worked in a room much like this one, but bigger and somewhat more comfortably furnished.

-"Should I go check it out, then?" He asked eagerly, noting that the disturbance had occurred in a Zoo.

-"Easy now," his mentor said, "first let's decide if it must be investigated or if we just send in the poor bugger who caught the _Junior Obliviator_ Sunday shift."

-"What? don't we begin an investigation on everything?"

-"Oh sweet Merlin but you're wet behind the ears," Alwyn said with a smile, "listen, I know what it says in the books."

He summoned a blank memo and quickly jutted down the location before sending it on its way to the _Obliviator Headquarters_.

-"Now," he added, "here's how it works in the real world: hundreds of years back, some longbeards in the _ICW_ determined that to maintain the Statute of Secrecy, _every_ unexpected magical incident should not only cause nearby crowds to be checked by professional mind wizards, but also be thoroughly investigated to find the guilty party and punish them for it." He sat down on the edge of a desk to continue his story, seemingly very relaxed in the face of the pulsating red dot.

-"That's more or less what's written in the manuals." Bertie prompted urgently.

-"Aye, but back in the day, the magical population was far smaller than now, especially after the early goblin wars and the witch burnings. More importantly, the Statute was fresh, so everyone was willing to put in the effort to get it going. Everything was handled by a specialized police force who also had Obliviation rights and training."

-"So how did we come to this?" He said, waiving vaguely at the office.

-"Policy." The investigator said grandly, "the magic of optimisation, easier management, cost savings and compartmentalisation. Now, a dozen different departments and offices can be called upon to respond to any incident, depending on its nature, scale and context. That's of course assuming that jurisdictions do not overlap... these cases can be a whole other box of doxies I'll tell you!"

Bertie was now entirely lost.

-"Sooo... what do we do with this?" He asked, pointing at the map.

-"Very small magical trace, potentially even animal or environmental in origin, in the middle of a non-busy place where no one is really paying attention to anything... This is normally a lock for a small Obliviation job and a sweep under the rug."

-"Oh," Bertie said, his shoulders slumping.

-"But... since you're buried under parchment and bored out of your mind..."

-"Yes?"

-"I guess you could go check it out..."

-"Yes!"

-"If nothing else, it would be educational... good for your formation."

-"Yes, of course." Bertie said, only barley suppressing his glee and excitement.

-"Well, what are you waiting for then, the trail is getting cold! Off you trot!"

-"Yes mister Lewis, sir!" He said, already zigzagging through the desks.

-"Oy Bertie! What's rule number one?"

Bertie had a hand on the handle, his heart banging strongly in his chest.

-"Don't be noticed, don't make it worse!" He cried, running for the emergency fireplaces.


	3. 1c-Bertie

_**Sunday of June the 23rd, 1991 (continued), A Zoo in Surrey:**_

Checking his watch nervously, Bertie noted that ten long minutes had elapsed since he arrived in front of the zoo. The assigned _Obliviator_ had still not manifested themselves.

 _Okay_ , Bertie thought, deciding to do his duty and take action, _be inconspicuous_.

Having been raised by a muggleborn mother, the young Ministry worker was more comfortable in the mundane world than many of his colleagues. It had been easy for him to transfigure his workrobes into an unremarkable pair of jeans and white shirt that fitted his tall and slander build properly.

Making sure for a last time that his right sleeve was hiding his wand fully, he made his way to the cashier.

-"G'day, lad", the older man said genially.

-"Hello sir, seems like I'll just be one adult."

-"That'll be a tenner, then."

-"Here you go... slow day?" Bertie asked, looking around at the deserted entrance.

-"Aye, looks like. There was a bit of excitement in the reptile house earlier but I don't rightly know why. Otherwise, a giraffe gave birth a few days back and the calf can be seen around the enclosure."

-"Thanks, I'll be sure to check it out."

-"Have a nice visit," called the man as Bertie walked in.

Aided by the map he picked up at a dispenser, he made his way to the reptile house, discreetly waving his _magical residue_ detector back and forth. The small apparatus was disguised as a telephone box keychain, modelled after the Ministry's muggle entryway. It was enchanted to vibrate in the presence of the smallest amounts of magic, which could cause unfortunate effects if not properly deactivated when entering a magical location. Some forgetful wizards from the newly equipped departments had offered quite a spectacle in the Ministry's Atrium.

No magical trace was apparent on the walk, but he still decided to loop around the reptile house, searching for clues in a diligent way. At one point, he caught a faint trail that seemed to lead toward a secluded alley at the back of the building.

Progressing slowly, he saw someone sneakily making their way into it and swiftly got closer. He was surprised to find a short young woman who wore an old-fashioned summer dress. Noticing him, she stiffened and looked at him suspiciously.

-"Hum... hello?" Bertie said.

-"Yes?" she replied, raising an eyebrow.

Approaching, he thought he recognized her.

-"Hey! Blishwick, right? weren't you a Slytherin prefect?" he whispered.

-"Merlin!" she said, leading him into the alley by the sleeve, "who are you, and what are you doing here!"

-"No, what are _you_ doing here! I am with the _Improper Use of Magic Office_ and this is an active inves...

-"Yes, I know," she cut in an unimpressed voice, "I'm the on site _Obliviator_ and I've just finished my job."

-"Damn, I've been waiting for you in front for ten minutes! Why didn't you follow protocol?"

-"Listen, hum?"

-"Cuthbert Cram, I was two years below you in Hufflepuff."

-"Yes. Listen, Cram, my supervisor told me not to expect anyone. This is just routine: check the onlookers, look for cameras, open-and-shut. And it's Sunday... what are you even doing here?"

-"Well..." Bertie blushed, "I'm not saying I was writing a report and got bored beyond belief, but..."

She sighed.

-"Suit yourself. I'm done doing my work with nothing to report, so I'll just get going then."

She looked around and took out her wand, readying for an apparition.

-"Wait! what even happened here, did you find out?"

-"Huh, a window vanished or something and a boa got out. An employee got it back two minutes later and no one was hurt. As far as I can tell, nobody saw anything and there was no cameras. Have fun."

She disapparated.

 _Great_ , he thought, _what am I supposed to do with that?_


	4. 1d-Bertie

_**Sunday of June the 23rd, 1991 (concluded), A Zoo in Surrey:**_

Half of an hour after the _Obliviator_ had left, Bertie was done snooping around everywhere he could and down to his last interrogation.

-"Excuse me sir, you are the director?" He asked.

-"Yes, I'm terribly sorry," the man blurted quickly.

-"What?"

-"What? uh, yes. Broken window, nobody was hurt, you know. Terrible business."

The middle-aged man looked haggard and confused.

 _He must have been hit with a strong confundus or worse_ , thought Bertie.

-"I'm with the zoo security inspection, sir," he bluffed.

-"Oh! good lord!"

-"Would you mind answering a few questions?"

-"I'm terribly sorry, would you like some tea?"

-"It's alright, sir, I'll be quick, I can see you're in need of a break."

-"Terribly sorry."

-"It's okay. Could you just tell me what happened?"

-"The day I was promoted, I slipped on a pile of elephant shite and ruined my good trousers right before I was summoned by the board."

-"Yes, hum... I did not need that information, sir. What about what happened earlier today? In the reptile house?"

-"Oh, two boys were near a window when it broke, nobody was hurt."

-"Do you know who they were?"

-"I can't remember, it went so fast. One of them was fat and his parents were with him, the other one, not so much."

-"Did you get their names ?"

-"Dudder...Dunders...no, Durdleys... or something, I'm not sure about the other one."

Bertie sighed, this witch did good work.

-"Well, I suppose it can't be helped. Don't worry about the inspection, accidents happen and after all, nobody was hurt. You should go take a break."

-"Yes... yes, thank you, bye-bye."

Just as Bertie turned to leave, the director cried:

-"Aha!"

-"Sir?"

-"I remember his name, the skinny boy."

-"Yes ?"

-"It was... Po... Potus... no, Polkiss! it was Polkiss."

-"Oh, good... thank you sir, have a good day."

Tiredly walking to the nearest bench, Bertie stretched and sat with a huff. Taking out his brand new personal notepad, he quickly jotted down the potential names of the witnesses. Contemplating the page, he sighed. There was not much. The many magical traces he had found in the building were probably all the remnants of Aldora Blishwick _Legilimencing_ , _Obliviating_ and _Confunding_ everyone and their mothers. Any magical clue regarding the original incident was lost in the fray. Slowly, he resigned himself to the fact that his first investigation was a failure. He did not like it. Bertie had never been the most intelligent, powerful, or scholarly of wizards -and it had cost him a spot in the _Aurors_ or on the _Law Enforcement Squad-_ but when it mattered to him, he was hard working and hated to fail with a passion.

-"Well," he muttered to himself, "regroup, reassess and reset."

Back in the Atrium, having taken care to deactivate his detector, Bertie took the direction of the elevator.

It was already packed with witches and wizards making their way to the upper levels, but he did not recognize any of them. As he crammed himself into a remaining spot, he noticed a familiar face. Mafalda Hopkrik.

 _It's just one of these days_ , he thought morosely.

The elevator emptied progressively as it climbed and she silently came to stand at his right, until:

-"Level 4, _Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures_."

-"Pardon me," said a posh wizard behind her.

Exiting the elevator, he left them alone as the doors closed and it started moving.

-"I've talked to Mr Lewis on his way out," she said primly, not looking at him.

-"Oh?"

-"Mister Cram," she added severely as she turned toward him, "am I to understand that you've spent your time needlessly investigating a minor incident, when you should have been working on the report I have assigned to you?"

-"Well no... hum, that is, I thought it might be a good way to... complete my formation. It did not take so long at all."

-"And did it?" she asked with a deadpan stare behind her glasses.

-"Level 3, _Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes_ "

Nobody got in. Bertie was getting very nervous.

-"Did it what?"

-"Help with your formation."

-"Oh, yes! yes undoubtedly!"

-"What did you find, then?"

-"Oh...hum, not much, in truth."

A quick sarcastic smile tugged at her lips.

-"Mister Cram, let me be very clear. If your report is not delivered on time or fails to comply with the standards of quality expected of this institution, I will find myself obligated to issue a Warning to your file."

-"Oh."

-"Are we understood?" she insisted.

-"Yes m'am."

-"Level 2, _Department of Magical Law Enforcement_ "

-"Get to work, mister Cram," she said as they exited the elevator.

-"Yes m'am, going to the Stacks right now, good day!" he said, hastily taking his leave.

Technically, Mafalda Hopkrik was not his boss. Alwyn was his good-natured supervisor. Mr Coombs was the head of the _Improper Use of Magic Office_ , replacing Dolores Umbridge who had been made _Undersecretary_ to the Minister some months ago. There was even Mrs Bones, who directed the whole _Department of Magical Law Enforcement._

He wouldn't have minded if any of _them_ had talked to him like that -especially Mrs Bones who was extremely scary- but Mafalda Hopkrik, that had wounded his pride a little.

 _Huh... give them an ounce of power_ , he thought bitterly.


	5. 2a-Conan

_**Friday of November the 1st, 1991, Ministry of Magic:**_

Chief Inspector Conan Baynes, of the _Magical Law Enforcement Squad_ , liked to think of himself as a true gentleman. He had always done everything in his power to live up to the expectations of his position, in mind as in body. At 43, he maintained his averagely built physique in good working condition, kept his hair short, taking his balding with poise, sported a precise and carefully kempt moustache and was well known for his quick wit, intuition and generally pleasant disposition. For all of that, the last few weeks had been very trying on his composure.

-"Hawkworth !" He cried in the direction of the opened door of his office.

Some long moments later, a gangly younger man appeared and leisurely walked to the front of his desk.

-"Yessir?" he said.

Opening a drawer and taking out a book, Conan plopped it on his desk.

-"Do you know what this is?" he asked.

-"Uh, yessir, it appears to be a standard manual for the MLES recruits."

-"And, do you know what _that_ is?" he said, pointing at a short stack of parchment on his desk.

-"Well it's my report, innit?"

-"Yes," he said sighing, "now, would you explain to me why you didn't think to use what was written in this," he pointed at the manual, "in order to produce this ?" Conan asked, pointing at the report.

Hawkworth seemed confused.

-"There is a problem, sir?"

-"Yes. First, and I take no pleasure in being that person, but there is a slew of grammatical and spelling mistakes everywhere."

-"Oh, one or two must have escaped me, sir."

-"Uhuh. The handwriting is also terribly hard to decipher."

-"I'm breaking in a new quill, sir."

-"You didn't think it appropriate to ask for the names of the witnesses?"

-"Well, people hardly like to talk to the House if they know they'll be on record, sir."

-"You describe one of the witnesses as a... Poor ol' bugger with a peg leg."

-"Ahah," the young man just chuckled.

-"Listen, Hawkworth."

-"Yessir?" he said, taking a seat on the chair in front of the desk, seemingly tired by this conversation.

 _Sweet Merlin give me the strength not to murder this little shit_ , Conan thought.

-"I want you to rewrite your report in accordance with guidelines... or even just common sense."

-"But I told you, I don't have the names."

-"I don't care!" Conan said, taking a breath to remain calm, "you will do better next time, for now, just write something mildly acceptable," he added, handing the man his report and the manual.

-"Okay sir, if it's so important... Merlin," Hawkworth said in a frustrated tone while getting up to leave the office.

-"And, Hawkworth?"

-"Yes?" he asked, already halfway through the door.

-"Do try not to spill your tea on it this time."

-"Yessir."

Conan slumped in his chair and exhaled strongly as his eyes closed.

-"Hawkworth getting to you?" said a man entering the office.

-"Thompson, my friend, my brother, sit down. We have to do something about him," Conan said in a pleading voice.

-"There's nothing we _can_ do, and you know it. He's the nephew of a _Wizengamot_ bigwig. He'll stay here until he gets bored, or gets himself promoted to something better.

-"We could kill him, I know a guy."

-"Sure," Thomson said in a deadpan voice.

-"Maim him?"

-"Uhuh"

-"Cripple him, just a little, just so he doesn't pass medical... they'd be happy to have him at _International Cooperation_..."

-"With a quick-brain like him? We'd be at war in a month."

-"I suppose you're right," Conan said with a sigh.

Both of them shared a chuckle.

-"Listen, Baynes, I didn't come here just for a laugh..."

-"What's going on?"

-"There might be trouble at Hogwarts."

-"Get out of my office!" Conan cried in mock indignation.

-"Yeah, I know," Thompson said with a grimace.

-"I don't even know who's got jurisdiction here."

-"Mate, _nobody_ knows who's got jurisdiction over Hogwarts."

-"This is going to be a mess isn't it?"

Thompson nodded, both men taking a moment of silence to brace themselves against the brewing storm they could see coming.

-"Still," the man said, "it doesn't mean we shouldn't check it out. You know, think of the children and all that."

Getting up decisively, Conan went to the door and closed it, activating the privacy charms that protected his office.

-"So," he said turning to his long time friend, "what's wrong exactly?"


End file.
